Cole blushed brightly, even in the dim light.
Jodi appeared to rescue Cole at that very moment. Charlie hadn’t seen Jodi in a few weeks and the difference was startling. She was gaunt, her face drawn and pale. And if Charlie wasn’t mistaken, Jodi looked like she was sick to her stomach. “Jodi, are you feeling all right?”
A look passed between Jodi and Cole. Jodi nodded. “Yeah. Fine.”
“What do you have here, Charlie?” Cole quickly changed the subject.
Charlie cut the cable tie with the pair of scissors she’d pulled from one of the drawers. “I may be imagining it, but this joey’s left leg seemed a bit off when I pulled him. I just want to make sure it’s okay before I take him home.” She lifted the wiggling creature out of the bag and held him so Jodi had easy access to the suspect leg. Much to her surprise, Jodi didn’t touch the wallaby. Not once.
“Cole, let’s just get an X-ray, shall we?” Jodi rubbed her tired looking eyes with her thumbs.
“Yep,” Cole said with complete lack of emotion.
Charlie slid the joey back into the pouch and handed the bundle to Cole, who then walked out of the room.
“Jodi, shouldn’t you—”
“Oh! Hey. Cole and I went down to Jackadgery yesterday. I’m pretty sure I spotted Big Bird while I was down there. I was going to call you last night, but I spent the night at Cole’s and well…”
“What? You’re kidding?”
Jodi lifted one shoulder. “I can’t be a hundred per cent sure it was him. He hit the thermals pretty quick not long after I first noticed him. But I could’ve sworn I saw a flash of that white wing feather.”
“No way. What are the chances he’s still in the area?”
Jodi shrugged.
“Where’d you see him? In the field where we released him?”
Jodi shook her head. “No. Just a little bit away. I hiked to a lookout called Lyrebird Rock. You can see forever up there.”
“Does Pip know where that is?” Charlie bounced up and down on her toes, barely able to contain her excitement.
“She might, although it’s a bit remote. But I’d be happy to take you up there.”
Charlie grabbed Jodi’s arm. “Really? When?”
Jodi frowned. “Probably not for at least a week at the earliest. There’s more rain coming in.”
“Right, okay. We’ll have to make plans.”
Cole walked in with the pouch cuddled against her chest. “The image should be up on the computer,” she said flatly.
Jodi opened up the laptop and tapped a couple keys, and a skeletal image appeared on the screen. She studied it for a few minutes. “Doesn’t look like anything serious, Charlie. I’d wager it’s just bruised badly. Heat and quiet should help make a difference over the next fortnight.”
Charlie took the joey from Cole, completely flabbergasted that Jodi had still not touched him. “Okay. I’ll have Pip call you. She sends her love to both of you, by the way.”
“Back at her.” Jodi sculled the remainder of her coffee and moved towards the door. “Good seeing you. I have to get going. Mandy’ll have the next client waiting in the examining room.” She opened the door and left without another word.
“Is she going to be okay?”
Cole blew out a sad breath. “Your guess is as good as mine. But I’m hopeful. There’re some things in the works, fingers crossed, that should help. Anyway, I’d best push off and give her a hand.”
“Okay. See you.” Charlie showed herself out of the clinic. She secured the joey in the bag and pointed the ute towards home. She wondered what Pip was going to make of all this.
Pip was washing the mid-morning feeding bottles and bowls when she heard Charlie arrive home. A few moments later she entered the prep room.
Charlie greeted her with a soft kiss. “Hey, babe.”
Pip smiled. “Hey, yourself. What’s in your goody bag?”
Charlie laid the bag on the table and opened it. “You mean the joey pouch? I swear it’s going to take me half a lifetime to come to terms with your Aussie lingo.”
“You’re presuming, of course, that you’ll live a long life. We’re a complicated mob, you know?”
“Don’t I know it.” Charlie took the joey out of the bag, a frown creeping over her features.
“Walk me through your morning.”
After Charlie regaled her with the morning’s events, Pip examined the joey, running her fingers along limbs, stretching out joints, testing and looking for contusions or signs of trauma. Meantime, Charlie had her hands and fingers deftly weaving in and out of Pip’s as she took tail and hind leg measurements, recording all the details as she went. Their seamless teamwork still surprised and delighted Pip, having spent quite a few years doing everything on her own.
“And there it is,” Charlie concluded. “Just a plain weird kind of morning. I tell you, I still can’t get over Jodi. In fact, the more I think about it, the more it bothers me.”
“Even though I didn’t see the X-rays, for what it’s worth, I think Jodi’s probably right.” Charlie blinked hard. Pip stroked the back of Charlie’s hand. “I know, love. It’s not right. More importantly, you’re right—it’s so not Jodi. But let’s break it down—the joey, the results, and Jodi.”
Charlie pulled in a breath. “So, the joey—initially we’ll keep it quiet, support the joint, and assess swelling, circulation, and movement at regular intervals.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And Jodi?” Charlie put the joey back into a brushed cotton wrap, a woollen lined pouch, and then into a secondary heavy duty bag that she hung off a frame.
“I’m not sure I have a big enough pouch for her,” Pip said. “But I suspect the treatment won’t be dissimilar to the joey here.”
“What do you mean exactly?”
“We can see signs and symptoms of something not quite right.”
“Correct.”
“And so we’ll aim to keep what we can calm around her, we will assess each situation as it arises, and we’ll be supportive. We will monitor reactions, as best we can, at regular intervals, and we will consult with Cole and compare notes, where we think it’s deemed reasonable.”
Charlie blew out an exasperated breath. “So. We do nothing.”
Pip wrapped her arms around Charlie’s waist, drawing her in close. She kissed the tip of her nose. “On the contrary.”
Charlie visibly struggled with the concept of passive, supportive assistance. “I don’t get it.”
“I think you do. Probably more than most, I’d hazard a guess.” Empathy softened Pip’s voice naturally.
“What?”
“Your panic attacks, sweet. Largely, they were the result of a long series of built-up events. The triggers of an episode could range from something major to almost insignificant individual events or isolated occurrences.”
“You’re saying Jodi is having panic attacks.”
Pip tilted her head slightly. “In a sense, yes.” Pip was especially mindful that Charlie might feel reactive to the emotive comparison to her past situation. She knew she was taking a gamble that it might work in her favour, with Charlie the most likely to understand some of where Jodi’s reactions and feelings were coming from.
Pip ran her fingers lightly through Charlie’s hair. She always loved how Charlie’s curls lazily tumbled through her fingers, their strands as soft as silk. She sensed, more than felt, the slight shudder that passed through Charlie’s body. She waited and was finally rewarded by Charlie’s clear-eyed glance, ricocheting straight to her heart. Pip had come to know that look. That look signified Charlie had not only embraced the learning that came from a new situation, but she also relished the challenge.
Chapter Fourteen
They spent the day at the beach, with Jodi teaching Cole how to snorkel the clear sandy depths. Cole, as was fast becoming her tradition, had brought a mountain of food along, most of which, by mid-afternoon, they greedily consumed. Cole’s body hummed in unimagined satis
faction. The days away from the office were wonderfully, delectably decadent, but she knew it couldn’t last. There were business decisions to be made, clients to look after, and of course, there was the giant elephant in the room—the decrease in the amount of money coming in.
As the person who did the banking and once a month helped Jodi balance all the books, Cole knew the financial state of the business. And while Jodi might enjoy the temporary working reprieve, the lack of clients wouldn’t sustain the business in its current format for too much longer if there weren’t some changes made, and soon.
Her dilemma was how and when she could find a moment appropriate to have such a discussion with Jodi. Her head ached with the tension of the predicament of looking after her lover and helping to look after the business.
She packed the last of the lunchtime containers into the picnic basket. Jodi had pretended to struggle under the weight of it. And Cole had playfully ignored her. She smiled now, knowing that the basket would be a great deal lighter for their trek back to the Rover.
Cole slathered another layer of sunscreen on her shoulders, face, and arms, opting to cover her legs with her sarong while she read her book. She still hadn’t finished it.
She was left in a peaceful solitude, as Jodi was keen to explore the headlands. With Cole’s encouragement, some water, and a snack, Jodi had headed off to navigate the landscape.
Cole’s book sat unopened in her lap. They were so different, on so many levels, and yet, they were kind of like a key and a lock—two very different shapes and patterns, but somehow they complemented each other in their differences. That anomaly was alien to her, and yet here she sat, completely at ease, excited for Jodi’s return, yet pleased knowing that Jodi was off doing something she loved and neither needed, nor expected company, happy in the knowledge that Cole would be waiting for her. And Cole was happy that she felt no pressure to join her and endure the marathon slog through coastal heathlands, to land back limp and exhausted, pretending to enjoy what was effectively a nature-fest marathon.
She nodded to herself. Yep, a key and a lock. That’s what they were. Her analogy, although surprising, somehow filled her with joyful confidence and a sense of peace in its discovery.
Jodi came back several hours later, sweaty, grinning, and a touch pink from the sun. They quickly packed up and headed to the car. On their way home, Jodi recounted her hike along the headlands, including sitting on some rocks on the ocean’s front and having four kangaroos come down to the beach. They’d stood in the water not more than two metres away from where she sat on the tidal rock shelf, the surf breaking against their tummies and long muscular back legs.
After a quick wash, Cole set about chopping up some salad vegetables while Jodi took her turn in the shower. She covered the salad bowl and put it in the fridge. They had bought a cooked chicken on the way home, which sat cooling on the bench.
Jodi emerged, smelling of soap, in a tank top and loose cargo shorts. Cole couldn’t be sure, but by the loose fall of the clothes she guessed that Jodi wore nothing underneath. She swallowed as a rush of heat stole up her neck and across her face.
Cole opened the fridge door and looked inside. “Dinner’s a way off yet. Would you like wine, beer, water, juice, or something else?”
Cole barely had time to register Jodi closing the fridge door. “Something else, please.” Jodi drew Cole against her. A slow simmering kiss stole whatever dinner plans had been formulating in Cole’s mind.
“Mm. And what might that be, pray tell?” Cole wrapped her arms around Jodi’s neck and kissed her smiling mouth.
“I’m thinking I might fancy an entrée.” Jodi kissed her lips, her nose, and her neck.
“Oh?”
“Oh, yeah. I fancy me some rare sumptuous Kiwi bird.” Under Jodi’s guidance, Cole walked backward down the hallway into her bedroom.
“Is that so?”
Between Jodi’s kisses and free roaming hands, Cole had just enough sense to register that her shirt had gone missing, as had one of her slip-on house shoes. By the time they reached the edge of the bed, Cole was barely aware that Jodi was negotiating the knot at her hip that held her sarong in place. She felt it give way and whisper against her legs, to lie in a pool of cloth around her now bare feet. They tumbled to the bed and relished the slow and languid taste of each other’s lips.
It was apparent that Jodi had had a good day. Cole caressed Jodi’s shoulders as she kissed her way down her body. Her fingers traced a sun kissed arc across the midline of her biceps. “You caught some sun today.”
Jodi rose briefly and kissed Cole on the nose, and across her cheeks. “So did you.”
Cole took a breath. “Honey?”
“Hm?” Jodi seemed intent on exploring her clavicle and neckline.
“Today was wonderful. Thank you.”
Jodi sensuously rubbed her cheek along the under curve of Cole’s right breast. “You’re welcome. I loved it, too.”
Cole sucked in a sharp breath as Jodi toyed with her nipple with a lightning quick suck, followed by a feather-soft kiss, before retreating to explore the valley between her breasts. She mentally shook her head trying to regather her thoughts. “You know I love our days off.”
“Me, too.” Jodi slid a few inches lower, seeming to count every one of Cole’s ribs with her lips and tongue.
“But we need to talk about work.”
Jodi slid lower again, her tongue playing along the line where her abdomen met her pelvis. “Not now.”
“But…oh.” Cole’s breath shortened as Jodi gently parted her thighs. “We…” She swallowed. “We do need to get our heads around it at some point.”
Jodi slid ever lower until she lay nestled between Cole’s legs, her breath hot. Close. Making her shiver with each exhalation. “I’d say”—Jodi ever so slowly, with a single long, slow motion, stroked the full length of Cole’s sensitive centre with her tongue—“my head is in the best position it’s been in a long time.”
Cole slid her hands towards Jodi’s head. “No. Really. I mean…oh.” As Jodi’s lips claimed every square inch of her, Cole could barely breathe. Jodi’s mouth rendered her near speechless with her continued close attention.
“We really should…oh my God.” Cole’s moan effectively finished her sentence. Jodi was destroying any chance she had of having a sensible and serious conversation as she drew her ever closer to the point of no return, the heat of her lips smouldering in the attention.
“Don’t want to talk about it,” Jodi mumbled between kisses.
“But we…” Cole cried out as Jodi entered her.
“What is there to say?”
As Jodi’s lips encircled her clit and sucked her in, Cole’s hips moved beyond her control to meet the mouth that held her on the precipice of absolute wonder. Her fingers, twined in Jodi’s hair, held her tight against her centre, the need to be close driving all careful plans from her mind, her voice a strangled whisper. “Don’t stop.” Cole arched her body, gathering Jodi closer still, her head thrown back as the lights behind her eyes exploded outward, lighting up every fibre in her being.
She barely registered Jodi’s chuckle.
“That’s what I thought.”
Charlie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and took a sip of coffee. Her eyes remained trained on the visa checklist. For every document she pulled from her pile and slid into the large Express Post envelope, she checked the corresponding box on the list. The next one destined to join the growing pile in the mailer was the form declaring Pip’s sponsorship of her application. She put an X over the box and slid her finger down to the next one: Pip’s statutory declaration. Charlie riffled through the remaining papers. But it wasn’t there. Shit. She looked towards the door. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Pip and Chilli since breakfast. She glanced at the wall clock. Eleven twenty. She had an hour and a half before the post office closed. She quickly took stock of the remaining papers. Nope. It wasn’t there. “Where the heck did it go?” She looked
up suddenly, realizing that she hadn’t actually seen one. “I’ll bet she hasn’t even written it yet. Dammit.”
She pushed her chair away from the table, grabbed two apples from the fruit bowl, and went in search of her lover. The soft breeze that met her on the other side of the door smelled like rain. The sky had clouded over since the morning feed. She wondered how long it’d be before everything was wet again.
The prep room was empty but for Pip’s sickly little joey, who was tucked into a bag in the warmest part of the room, and the joey she’d recently rescued hung right next to it. The frame from which he was suspended jiggled a bit as he readjusted himself, but then became quiet again. As usual, everything was in its place, not a bit of clutter or dirt anywhere. The room exuded cleanliness and had a nearly sterile appearance.
Movement in the window caught her eye. Pip drove the four-wheeler along the garden, towing a trailer filled with new branches for the koalas. Chilli sat on the seat behind her, perfectly balanced and happy.
Charlie knew Pip would come directly to the prep room looking for a snack and drink to replenish her energy reserves. Gathering branches was hard work, especially in the heat, and Pip had to make sure her blood sugar remained stable.
She shined one apple against her shirt, took a bite, and rubbed the other one while she chewed. The apple was half gone by the time the door opened and Chilli ambled in, followed by a flushed and sweaty Pip.
“Go sit. I’ll grab you a drink.” Charlie quickly retrieved a Gatorade from the fridge and cracked it open while Pip plopped down into the thick lounge cushions.
“Gonna rain soon.” Pip took the proffered bottle and proceeded to down half of it.
“Mm. It definitely has that feel about it.” Charlie sat next to Pip and handed the apple to her.
“Thanks, sweet.” She took a bite, laid her head back, and chewed with her eyes closed.
Charlie nudged her. “No time for sleeping. You need to write up your Stat Dec so I can get everything in the mail.”
Pip pointed to the computer with her chin. “It’s done. Just have to print and sign it.”
Precipice of Doubt Page 18